


can't take my eyes off you

by maripond



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, and a very sexually frustrated enjolras, there's karaoke booze and grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maripond/pseuds/maripond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Courfeyrac wants a karaoke night, Courfeyrac will get his karaoke night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't take my eyes off you

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic ever and it was mostly written on the late hours of the night so please don't be too mean. I'm mean enough already. 
> 
> This is mostly the product of me desperately wanting this to happen and having no one to write this for me. So I decided to do it myself and hope for the best.
> 
> There might be a second chapter, I don't know, it's up to you to tell me if it's something I should bring into the world.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely poemsfromprouvaire (on tumblr). 
> 
> Aaand that's it, I hope you enjoy it and feedback is, as always, very much appreciated.

Courfeyrac manages to, very reluctantly, drag him to the bar on the grounds that if Enjolras refused to go, Courfeyrac would punish him by hiding his books for a whole month. Certain that Courfeyrac would go through with his threat, Enjolras decides to indulge him. Not only has he done it before, but also all the times he had stayed up late at night studying are starting to weigh on him. Perhaps a distraction isn’t such a bad idea.

So that's how he ends up on the loudest, cheapest bar they can find that also has a karaoke machine. Courfeyrac is feeling up for it and he just has to have it ~~.~~   _("If I don't sing at least two Nicki Minaj_ _songs with a reasonable amount of audience that isn’t just you idiots, you're all going to be really sorry, that's all I'm saying_ ").

The music is good and loud and his friends are singing along to whatever song is being sung at the moment. Enjolras can feel himself smiling and relaxing into his chair. It’s been a long time since he let himself go and simply enjoyed life. And that’s how most of the night passes.

Courfeyrac is up on the stage annoying everyone for at least 20 minutes. Joly freaks out because he’s 100% sure that this bar’s owner doesn’t know what health and safety codes are. Bossuet manages to stumble on his way to the bathroom, break three glasses and throw one waiter to the ground. Enjolras is pretty sure that at one point Bahorel disappeared and came back with an unfamiliar bruise on his hand.                                            

“Last song of the night, who wants to do the hon—“ and before the unknown voice finishes Grantaire is already up and walking to the small stage. Enjolras didn’t think Grantaire was capable of walking straight, much less getting into a stage and singing coherently but when it comes to alcohol Grantaire is always capable of surprising everyone. 

While Grantaire is assumedly choosing the song he is going to murder, Enjolras can hear his friends clapping with excitement and yelling cries of support for their drunken friend.  Even Combeferre has joined them and is yelling as loud as he can. Enjolras is sure he is the only sober one in the group. No, he is pretty sure he is the only sober person in the premises. 

He turns to his best friend sitting by his side, and nudges him to get his attention. When Combeferre finally stops cheering for Grantaire and acknowledges him, Enjolras asks, frowning:

“Why are you all so excited?” And when Combeferre says nothing he continues, “Was I really the only one who just sat through twenty minutes of Courfeyrac up there?”

Combeferre chuckles and while he turns his attention to the stage once again, he merely replies, “Shut up, Enjolras. Wait and see.”

That was weird, Enjolras decides. But he doesn’t give it much thought since his best friend’s tolerance to alcohol is only topped by Enjolras’ own and that’s not saying much.

He turns back to look at the small stage and his eyes settle on the drunken cynic. The unruly mop of curls covered by his trademark red beanie. The slight pink flush of his face due to the copious amounts of alcohol that he’s had tonight. Those long slick fingers, still a little smudged with charcoal, tracing the song list.

Enjolras is sure he’s blushing by now but he can’t bring himself to care or dwell on what that means. It’ll go unnoticed anyway. And the mischievous way Grantaire grins at the song list does nothing to soothe neither his blush nor his concern that this is not going to be as enjoyable as his friends are making it out to be.

But everyone in the club is cheering and clapping and eagerly waiting for the last song of the night, so Grantaire decides it’s time to give them what they’re asking for and finally walks – more like stumbles – towards the front of the stage and grabs the microphone.

When the music starts playing Enjolras is not ready for the little show happening in front of him. Not only is Grantaire’s singing not half as bad as he was expecting it to be - he’s actually really good – but he’s also dancing in the most ridiculous way possible. Now _there’s_ the Grantaire he knows and lov… tolerates. The Grantaire he knows and tolerates.

Enjolras can’t bring himself to look away. He knows he’s staring but Grantaire’s little dance moves and hip sways are as infuriating as his opinions. At first he doesn’t notice because he’s busy looking at the man’s lips as they move in synch with the music, but as his eyes trail upwards, and he notices that Grantaire is looking right at him and for the first time he pays attention to the song the man is singing.

 _Oh pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray_  
Oh pretty baby, now that I've found you, stay  
Let me love you baby, let me love you

The sight before him is enticing, despite the uncomfortable feeling that it provokes on Enjolras. The fault lies on Grantaire’s mellow and mesmerizing voice, his blue eyes that shine under the bright lights, but mostly, it lies on the way his hands hold the microphone, every now and again sliding up and down teasingly.

Suddenly, Grantaire is walking out of the stage and heading towards him.

Shit, is this really happening? Enjolras thinks as he squirms in his chair.

Grantaire stops a few tables in front of theirs and Enjolras sighs in relief. He couldn’t do this right now. He’s been confused over this situation with Grantaire for a while now. He doesn’t need the man himself to aggravate it even more by serenading him in front of the whole bar.

Grantaire seems to think differently because he’s walking again and he’s showing no intentions of getting back to the stage.He keeps on walking until, finally, he stops inches away from Enjolras.  They lock eyes and instead of singing normally he starts lowering his voice to a mere whisper that would’ve sounded obscene had they been alone.

But they are not alone, Enjolras reminds himself. For the first time since Grantaire opened his mouth Enjolras realizes that yes, they are not alone. He looks around to see the looks on his friends’ faces. They all look annoyingly normal, like Grantaire practically giving him a lap dance is a regular thing for them to witness.  Grantaire is now grinding against him, voice still barely a whisper. Enjolras blushes and fidgets in his chair. Grantaire simply grins and keeps going with his mischievous ways.

_You feel like heaven to touch  
I wanna hold you so much_

Enjolras wants to reach out and touch him. He has never been so infuriated with Grantaire. Coincidentally, he has never been so sexually aroused by the sight of the artist either but that’s something he prefers not to dwell on right now.

Grantaire doesn’t seem to be unfazed by any of the people outside their heated bubble so he keeps going, hands going up on Enjolras’ shirt, touching him more, taunting him, seeing how far he can go. Apparently very far, because Enjolras can’t seem to be able to move.

_You're just too good to be true  
Can't take my eyes off you_

Enjolras decides he’s had enough. He’s going to wipe that smug grin off of Grantaire’s face. He grabs Grantaire’s waist, sits him on his lap and closes the already small space between them.

He can feel the surprised look on the other man’s face but not for long. Soon enough they’re all hands and teeth and clumsiness - it probably doesn’t help that Enjolras has zero experience with all of this and Grantaire is drunk and still holding the microphone. His hand moves from Grantaire’s waist to holding the curls that are being hidden by the other man’s beanie.

It feels strange but so good. Very good, actually. He hasn’t been allowing himself to think of Grantaire in this way but now that he has finally broken that wall, it feels nice and new.

Grantaire moans against Enjolras’ lips and suddenly he starts feeling very self-conscious because they’re practically sucking each other’s face in public. 

Enjolras pulls his mouth away probably looking really confused. He doesn’t know what got into him. He doesn’t usually do this and he’s not even drunk.

Grantaire looks as confused as Enjolras feels. Then, a sense of purpose appears in Grantaire’s face and he holds Enjolras’ face with both his hands slowly planting a kiss on his lips.

It’s sweet and slow and a bit more tentative than the previous kiss. He never wants to let go of Grantaire again. He wants to take him to his apartment and show him what he’s been missing out on. He wants to fuck Grantaire into oblivion, until the man forgets his own name and is panting for more. And he tells him so, whispering into his ear, making sure none of their nosy friends (namely, Courfeyrac) listens to this.

The look of surprise on Grantaire’s face as he pulls away is priceless, but it rapidly turns into the easy smirk that has now become Grantaire’s default expression.

“If I knew Can’t Get My Eyes Off You turned you on like this, I would have sang it much earlier,” Grantaire teased, “And in a much more private setting, might I add.”

Enjolras tries to muster the strength to give the man his best glare but he can’t. He feels his mouth quirking up into a fond smile as he watches Grantaire easing himself off of his lap and walking away to probably drop that mic somewhere.

He looks at Combeferre. He doesn’t know what he expects. His best friend usually has an answer for everything, but this time he knows he won’t find the answer there. He won’t find it in Courfeyrac both because his friend is currently staring into eyes with a really creepy smile and giving him the thumbs up.

He decides to ignore everyone. It’s up to him to figure this out.  All of Enjolras’s doubts fade away when he looks at Grantaire’s face. He looks happy. He’s smiling broadly, a lighter weight to his walk and a pep to his step, seeming completely carefree.

This is what Enjolras wants. He wants Grantaire.

As he is about to get up and tell him so, Grantaire starts walking towardhim and whispers into his ear:

“Come on, Apollo. I believe you made me a promise you have yet to fulfill.”

Enjolras smiles and grabs Grantaire’s hand. 


End file.
